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“No fucking way, Wynter,” he snaps.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t want you to die because of me,” I whisper.
“Don’t you get it, Wynter. If you die, my life isn’t worth living,” he hisses.
“So we should let Russo blow all three of us up?”
“No, because you’re not getting blown up, I’m going to figure out how to get you out of here, and then you’re never leaving the fucking estate again.”
I huff out a small laugh, trying to stop my body from shaking. “I’m surprised you were able to stay away for so many years with the level of caveman you’ve got going on.”
“It’s only because he always had eyes on you. If not for that, he wouldn’t have lasted the first year.” Storm chuckles as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
I stare at Everett for a moment before he too cracks a smile. “He’s right, you know. It never felt like I was away because I could always see what you were up to. Sometimes when you were on the phone, I would imagine you were talking to me, it was one of the ways I could stay sane during that time.”
I shake my head and hold the giggle that threatens in. “I should be really creeped out right now.”
“But you’re not?” Everett quirks a brow.
“No, I’m not.” Because the idea that he was never far makes some of the tension in my gut ease. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this isn’t it for me. If there’s anyone that can get me out of this, it’s him, and I have a feeling he’ll stop at nothing to be able to take me home when this is all over.
28
Everett
Every second Wynter sits on that bomb is a second and a half too long.
In the time it’s taken me to get close enough to the car and get my phone under the seat with extreme precision I normally only use when building something, Storm has called everyone in his contacts and assembled a bomb squad any military would be jealous of. But the fact that I have to put my woman’s life into a stranger’s hands is unacceptable to me. If I thought I could learn how to diffuse a bomb in the next ten minutes, I would be doing it right this moment, but that’s not practical, and it would likely end even worse for Wynter than whatever these guys do.
But at least if they blow her up, I’ll be standing right next to her. That’s something, right? “It’s handmade,” one of them confirms.
“But whoever made it seems to know what they’re doing, which means it’s stable,” another tells us.
“As stable as a fucking explosive can be, I guess,” Storm mutters. Out of the three of us, he’s the one taking it the hardest. He’s going over and over in his head all the moments that led us to this one, but he’s not going to find an error. The only mistake we made was leaving the house, and if we had brought only one car, we would all be sitting where Wynter is right now.
“We’re going to diffuse it now. One of us will climb in the other side and hold the device steady while another will carefully diffuse it. Once the pressure point is disabled we’re going to get Wynter out and then remove the device so it can be detonated in a safe location.”
It all sounds fine, and if it wasn’t my entire life sitting on top of the bomb, I would think it’s a great plan, but because it’s Wynter sitting there looking so calm I’m wondering if I might have to take her to the hospital on the way home, I can’t think straight to know if this is the best move.
I look to Storm who is staring at me and I realize we’re both hoping the other will have the answer, but it’s him who sighs and nods. “Do it.”
Wynter flinches at the command and I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m standing beside the car with a gentle hand on her shoulder. I need her to know she’s not alone. I tried my best to convince Storm to leave, to tell him that the rest of the family needs him if things go pear-shaped, but he didn’t even entertain the idea of leaving us.
“Ev,” she whispers, the nickname only she uses rolling off her tongue quietly as she turns her head to look at me. The fear in her eyes is almost my undoing, but there’s a quiet strength behind them. Everyone underestimates the women in this family, but if we make it out of this, the Russo family better believe it will be Wynter coming after them.
“Yeah, dove?”
“I’m sorry I was so harsh when you came back. I don’t know why you left, but I know you had to have had a reason. I’m sorry I didn’t see that until now.” Her eyes press closed as a few stray tears draw dark paths down her cheeks.
“You better not be trying to say goodbye to me right now, Wynter, because you’re not going anywhere other than home,” I growl.
“Everett, I need you to listen to me,” she snaps. “You know me. You know I need to prepare for every eventuality, and I can’t die without you knowing that I forgive you. I forgive you for leaving, and for breaking my heart, and for storming back into my life like you own it. I’m sorry that something kept us apart for eight years and you had to watch me live my life from afar. I’m sorry I begged Storm not to tell you what Craig did to me. I’m sorry I ever doubted how you felt about me.”
More tears trail down her cheeks and I ache to reach out and brush them away, but even that could be enough to set off the device, and I’m not willing to risk it.
“Dove,” I say quietly, my heart breaking more and more with each tear that rolls down her cheeks.
She’s right, I do know her, and in her mind there’s every possibility she won’t survive this. It’s not entirely unreasonable seeing as she’s perched on top of a bomb, but I can’t let her go on.
